Every day this week, every single blighted day. Absolutely nothing. Draco Malfoy was fuming, as he strode up the steps, high into the castle. He wanted to run, to leap, to pound his frustrations into the stone. To be every bit as undignified as those blasted Gryffindors. At last, he stood atop the rampart, casting small stone after small stone off the castle. It wasn't like anyone was down there... probably.
Something wasn't right - Crabbe and Goyle just couldn't see it.
Something in Malfoy ached to climb, to stretch, to work until he had a pleasant sheen of sweat to himself. And so he did. With every step, he felt the wrongness of the world - of Hogwarts, specifically, fading away from him. It was here that he could concentrate. Noplace and everyplace at once. He let his imagination roam... If it was Neville that poked at him so - like a thorn... Surely - something about him - about the people around him. But no. There was nothing. He was still Neville. Well, I suppose he was less around Granger and Weasel... but that wasn't unexpected. They were grieving.
Malfoy slid to a halt, his speed too fast to stop on a knut. They were grieving - Granger and Weasel - Ginger too, he was certain. But... but... but... Luna? Neville? They weren't. Of course, one never knew with Luna, whether she was ditzy or audacious. Maybe she was simply both, he considered, as he began to walk. Neville... he seemed the type to deal with grief quietly. With his plants, even.
So where was the asphodel? Had he missed it? This bore investigation...
[a/n: Asphodel is planted in Hades' domain, where normal people dwell.]